


Couldn't Say No

by belovedhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, Dubious Consent, Emotionally Hurt Dean, Forced Orgasm, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, No Romance, Realization, Sam Didn't Know, Self-Hatred, Sibling Incest, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Sam, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:45:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedhell/pseuds/belovedhell
Summary: Dean could never say no to Sam, even when he hated it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling miserable last night and wrote this. When I feel like that I can't help but write stories like this. Sorry. My mood went downhill. I was going to upload this last night but AO3 was out, so here you go. Early.
> 
> Comments and kudos are lovely and appreciated.

Dean could never say no to Sam, his baby brother that he raised as an infant. Not even when Sam wanted to be more than brothers. When he asked for a kiss when he was fourteen, Dean reluctantly obliged, leaning over and kissing him on his not so innocent lips.

Sam made the brightest smile that Dean had ever seen. Dean wanted Sam to smile like that all the time, making it a reason why Dean wouldn't reject Sam. His baby brother was his whole world and had always gave him whatever he wanted.

Therefore, kissing became their thing for a while, until Sam started to crave more.

Sam got possessive with him and wanted more than Dean was willing to offer. Yet, Dean still couldn't say no. He just followed Sam's lead. The kisses got longer and got rougher. It was like Sam was taking his breath away, literally.

It was Dean's job to take care of his brother, therefore he made sure their dad was never around. Dean felt like a sick son of a bitch every time he and Sam did something in the dark. Dean would tense when Sam wrapped his arms around him and his tongue was down his throat. He never got used to the feeling.

When Sam turned fifthteen... he got a bit aggressive. He began to leave marks on Dean's body: neck, collarbone, thighs. Everywhere. Sam bit until skin was broken, enough to last for days. Dean knew why he was doing it, because he wanted everybody to know that he belonged to Sam only.

Dean still didn't tell him to stop.

When Sam turned sixteen he asked to suck on his dick and see Dean naked. Dean hesitated, but when Sam gave him a pleading expression. He said yes. As Sam pulled down his pants and boxers, Dean bit his lips, harsh, as he felt Sam's tongue on his cock. Dean didn't moan, instead he shut his eyes and gripped onto the bed sheets.

He came much to his disgust.

After that, Sam caressed his torso and rutted against his hips. Dean had to convince Sam that they should wait for sex until Sam was eighteen. And to Dean's joy, Sam agreed. They did nothing but blowjobs and handjobs for a whole year. Dean never once got on his knees for Sam. Thank god.

When Sam got around seventeen, things took a turn for the worse. He asked Dean if he could finger him— no penetration whatsoever— as Sam said. Just enough to get Dean loose and used to the feeling. Not that Dean ever would.

Again, he didn't say no to Sam.

That day Dean cried, not in pain, but because he couldn't say no to Sam. No matter how hard he tried. Sam's fingers were cold and uncomfortable as they entered him, not even all the lube Sam used couldn't make him feel better. Once Dean came— due to stimulation— he rolled off the bed and padded towards the restroom. It was the first time he cried.

Dean had gone numb after that. He felt like a piece of him died. And yet, he couldn't reject Sam. A part of him started to blame himself. Dean didn't smile anymore or even went out to bars. He just sat on the couch and stare at nothing, wondering where life was going for him.

Their dad never noticed a damn thing. Dean didn't know whether to be grateful or disappointed in his father.

Dean started to eat less and drink more. It would be Sam's eighteen birthday soon, and he had to be prepared for what was coming. There were times that Dean thought about ending it all. Thought about putting a bullet into his mouth. Every time his dad left a gun on the table Dean was tempted to grab it.

One time as he held the gun in his hand, Sam had walked into the room. Dean for a second thought about shooting Sam dead right there— the dark thought made him drop the gun in horror. How could he even think about doing such a thing? Killing his brother?

Dean ran to the restroom and threw up the remaining alcohol. Dean never wanted to pick up a gun again.

When Sam turned eighteen, Dean let it happen. He resembled like a rag doll as he looked at the ceiling above in a trance. Dean zoned out. It was as if his subconscious slipped away as it happened. There was no pain, no relief... nothing. Dean wondered if his mind was breaking down, or was trying to save him. Either way, Dean hated it.

Dean was brought back to reality as he felt a hand on his cheek. He glanced at Sam with slanted eyes and a blank look. And for the first time Dean saw that Sam was sobbing and apologizing, saying the words "I'm sorry, Dean" over and over again. Then he cried out, "Why didn't you push me away if I was hurting you?"

It was an obvious answer. "Because I couldn't say no to you," Dean replied, with no emotion in his tone. It dawned to Dean that Sam was asking him about right now, not about all the other times. It was a mistake that slipped out.

Then Dean felt Sam backing away from him like he was hit by a bucket of cold water. Sam covered his mouth at the realization. It finally occurred to Dean that Sam had no idea he hated it. He had never once voiced his opinion and simply did what Sam wanted because Dean never once said no.

"Sam—"

"All those times! I thought you were nervous so I went slow and waited until I was eighteen," Sam shouted, "It was because I was molesting you... and today," Sam shakily let out a huff as he finished, "I-I was raping you."

"You weren't raping me," Dean snapped. "I wanted it." He said yes every time. Sam was never forcing him against his will.

Sam shook his head. "You didn't want it, Dean. You just allowed it to happen. N-No more. I won't ever touch you again." Sam picked up his clothes and started to put them on in a hurry.

Dean should be relieved that it was over, their fucked up incestuous relationship. Yet, he saw the way Sam was acting, something he knew too well. Guilt. Before Dean could tell him something, Sam left the motel room, never once glancing back at him.

It was until two weeks later that Dean found Sam's letter to Stanford. Sam packed everything that was his and left without saying goodbye. All that he left was a note for Dean saying: _I'm sorry for everything._

The other half of Dean's heart broke. If he hadn't told Sammy the truth he would still be right next to him. Dean saw the date of the letter when he found it. It was from two months ago.

If Sam had been thinking of going to Stanford... that would mean he was planning on asking Dean to come with him. Dean was certain that if Sam had asked him before he would have said yes.

Because he couldn't say no to Sam.


End file.
